


superstitious

by untrustworthyglitch



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 12:30:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untrustworthyglitch/pseuds/untrustworthyglitch
Summary: Taako blinks at him slowly. “Of course they don’t have any family. No one would want them.”Something like rage rises in Magnus’s chest.“And what, exactly, does that mean?” he demands. The rough wood of the table bites into his hands where he clutches it, white-knuckled.“They’re twins,” Taako says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like Magnus is being particularly difficult by choice, like he’s ridiculous for not knowing. “That’s bad luck. Identical twins are practically a curse.”





	superstitious

**Author's Note:**

> i just finished the stolen century and i'm full of lots and lots of emotions about those elf twins growing up on their own in a shitty world with no one but each other to trust and count on so here, have this, which i just wrote in half an hour and proofread like exactly one whole time.
> 
> for those wondering merle is definitely off engaging in light banter with a man selling succulents in a shady back alley and is 100% about to buy, like, a billion of them. dude's a sucker for plants, especially the tiny ones in little glass hanging pots, those are the shit.
> 
> questions? comments? wanna scream at me about space? you can head on down to untrustworthyglitch.tumblr.com to do so, but fair warning, it's literally mostly a youtube fanblog so consider this your heads-up.

It’s definitely going to rain, and Magnus is not looking forward to hearing Taako whine and complain about his ruined hair for the rest of the evening.

They’re in some town none of them know the name of, surrounded by craggy mountains and wispy fog, and the townsfolk start closing down their bustling marketplace at the first sign of a sprinkle. Magnus sighs, hoists his overpacked bag on his shoulder, and heads for the tavern they’d promised to meet back up in.

Neither of the others are there, which is fine by him. He picks out a table in the corner and settles in. He’s content to run a calloused hand over the rough grain of the wood, and before he knows it he’s nodding off. It’s warm in the tavern, and fairly empty given that it’s probably around noon. The rain is gentle on the roof. For once, he’s almost peaceful.

The peace is shattered when he feels a tiny hand dip into his back pocket.

“Hey!” he says, perhaps slightly louder than necessary, and stands up. He grabs for the pickpocket and ends up with one hand wrapped tightly around a thin wrist, belonging to a young elf girl who frantically tugs at her arm in an attempt to escape. Her eyes are wild beneath a mop of messy blonde hair, and she’s missing a tooth.

“Let me go!” she says shrilly, panic edging into her voice. “I’m sorry, okay, I won’t do it again, just let me go!”

“Stop struggling and I will,” Magnus says in his best frightened-animal-that-needs-calmed-down voice. The girl gives one last pull and accepts her fate. She slumps against the wall with downcast eyes, defeated.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, and Magnus lets out a sigh.

“It’s fine,” he says, and she looks up at him with endlessly blue eyes, confused and calculating. She opens her mouth to speak, but he holds up a hand to cut her off. “Are you hungry?”

Her eyes light up, but there’s still caution in the set of her shoulders. She nods.

“Alright, then let’s get something to eat,” he says, and motions for her to sit down. She does, but only once she’d moved a chair to face the room, with the wall to her back. Something in Magnus’s chest aches. He doesn’t like it.

It doesn’t take long for Magnus to motion to a barkeep that they are in dire need of sustenance, and a plate is deposited onto the table heaped with bread and fruit. The girl’s eyes go wide, and she wastes no time grabbing for food as though she hasn’t eaten in weeks. Magnus gets about halfway into a piece of bread before he has to stop. He has no appetite, not when he can see the bones jutting out in this girl’s wrist, not when her cheekbones are sharp enough to cast shadows over her gaunt cheeks.

“So, you’re alone?” he tries. She certainly seems alone, and that’s not right. He’s not really sure about how, exactly, elven ages work, but she’s definitely too young to be on her own. Were she human he’d assume her to be around twelve. 

She stops, seems to think for a moment, and says, “I have a sister.”

“Where is she?” Magnus demands, because hell if he’s going to feed one starving girl and leave another somewhere out in the cold. No fucking way, man.

“Around,” the girl says shiftily, but she glances toward the door and gives it away. He sighs and raises one eyebrow at her until she swallows hard and continues. “She’s outside. On the porch. Waiting for me.”

“Well, get her in here!” he says forcefully, and the girl hurries to her feet. She nearly trips over the hem of her ratty skirt in her haste to get to the door. She’s only outside for a moment before she returns, gripping the wrist of another girl, who doesn’t seem half as enthusiastic about accepting food from a complete stranger.

“I’m Magnus,” Magnus says when both girls are seated. They share a look and it’s then that he notices how similar they are. They have the same messy blonde hair, pulled back into identical braids. (Magnus almost hears Taako’s voice in his head telling him that in no universe and in no timeline do those catastrophes even come close to counting as braids.) They have the same blue eyes, the same downturned mouths, the same olive skin. The only difference is the tooth only one of them is missing.

“I’m Elara,” the girl with the missing tooth says. “She’s Elita.”

“Nice to meet you,” Elita says formally, and pops a grape in her mouth.

“Are you twins?” Magnus asks, and something changes ever so slightly. Both girls tense. They share another look, this one full of unspoken things and probably a small argument. It’s the same thing Taako and Lup do when they’re trying to decide who gets to pick the menu for family dinner night and they don’t want anyone else to muddle things with their unnecessary opinion.

“Yes,” Elita says slowly, not making eye contact.

“Oh, cool!” Magnus says, and both girls look up in confusion. “I mean, I have some friends who are twins, and I think that’s pretty neat. They look so much alike that sometimes the rest of us get mixed up. Not on purpose!”

“You’re friends with twins?” Elara asks.

Magnus nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! One of them is supposed to meet me here, actually.”

Somewhere, some kind of deity must have been smiling down on them, because Taako chooses that exact moment to make his entrance. He throws the door open with force and steps inside in a cloud of raindrops and mist, dramatically shaking the droplets from his hat. He breezes through the tavern and flops into the chair next to Magnus with a huff.

“Thank Pan I wore a short skirt,” he moans theatrically. “A long one would be _ruined_ in all this mud.”

“Lucky fashion choices,” Magnus says, more as filler than as real conversation, because Taako is on a roll.

“And as if that’s not bad enough! The man selling spices was charging far, _far_ too much, and I had the _shittiest_ luck trying to barter with him! Critical failure! Worse than Garfield!” Taako whines. He reaches forward and plucks a grape off the plate with one perfectly manicured hand. The nail polish is red today. Yesterday it had been blue.

“Too bad,” Magnus says.

Taako breezes on. “Anyway, how much longer are we here? I have a hot date tonight that I need to fix my hair for, because the rain has absolutely _murdered_ it.”

“I think your hair looks fine,” Magnus tells him, and Taako grins.

“Thanks, babe,” he says, and reaches for another grape. Halfway there, his hand makes contact with Elara’s, who yanks hers back and presses it to her chest. Taako cocks his head to the side and leans forward, suddenly curious. “What did you find today, Maggie?”

“These are Elara and Elita,” Magnus says, pointing to each twin in turn. 

“Twins,” Taako says, and hums.

“Yes,” Elita confirms.

“They don’t have any family,” Magnus says, because he has a feeling Taako is about to say something moderately shitty, and wants to head that off at the pass. Taako huffs a humorless laugh and confirms Magnus’s suspicions.

“Well, of course not,” he says easily, and tosses a grape into his mouth. The girls don’t seem to have a reaction, but Magnus is actually floored. Taako can be callous, sure, and selfish and unbothered and generally a bad dude all around, but he’d never been outright cruel to orphan children before. This is a new low.

“What the hell,” Magnus says, because there’s nothing else to say. What the hell.

Taako blinks at him slowly. “Of course they don’t have any family. No one would want them.”

Something like rage rises in Magnus’s chest. 

“And what, exactly, does that mean?” he demands. The rough wood of the table bites into his hands where he clutches it, white-knuckled.

“They’re twins,” Taako says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like Magnus is being particularly difficult by choice, like he’s ridiculous for not knowing. “That’s bad luck. Identical twins are practically a curse.”

“That’s,” Magnus starts, but can’t quite come up with an ending to the sentence that would properly convey the sheer levels of what-the-fuck behind that little tidbit of information. 

“Yep, it’s shitty,” Taako says breezily.

“Yeah it is!” Magnus agrees wholeheartedly. “What kind of superstition is that?”

“Elven,” Taako replies. 

“And people would actually just get rid of their kids for being twins?” Magnus demands. He doesn’t believe it. Parents aren’t like that. That doesn’t actually exist. Does it?

“Mhm. It’s not, like, a common thing or whatever, but it happens. Every now and then somebody ends up with identical twins and then--poof! You get two kids growing up on the streets with only themselves to count on. I mean, not everybody is grossly superstitious like that, but it happens.”

“Is that what happened to you and Lup?” Magnus asks before he can stop himself, and Taako’s eyes shutter. He doesn’t stiffen, doesn’t stop breathing, doesn’t react physically at all, but the question did something to him. Something Magnus regrets.

“Got it in one,” he says, but he’s slightly strained, and it’s with obvious effort that he yanks himself back into an upbeat persona. “Anywho, what do you plan to do with your two new friends?”

Magnus looks at the girls, who look back unblinkingly. There’s a sort of resignation in their eyes that says they’re used to being talked about like they aren’t right there, like they’re used to being discussed as things to deal with rather than people to support. Elara puts a hand on Elita’s arm, and both girls glance toward the door.

“I dunno,” Magnus says slowly, and makes an effort to talk to the girls instead of about them. “I can’t just let you go live on the streets and rob people for a living.”

“We’re fine,” Elita says with a small smile.

“We know magic,” Elara tells them, and holds up a hand with a tiny flickering flame perched on the palm.

“And we’re smarter than we look,” Elita says.

Elara winks, and holds up Magnus’s coinpurse, and both girls bolt for the door. He makes no effort to go after them. It’s not like he had a hell of a lot of coinage on him in the first place, and he has a distinct feeling that they probably need it more than he does.

“Well that solves that,” Taako says, and stands. “C’mon, big guy, let’s go back to the moon.”

Magnus goes, but can’t get the image of the twin elves dashing off into the cruel adult world out of his head for nearly a week afterwards, no matter how many times Taako tries to assure him that they’ll be fine.


End file.
